


The Disappearance of Harrison Potter

by kimuii



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Aerial silks, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, BAMF Harry Potter, Circus, Dancer Harry Potter, Healing, Homeless Harry, Hurt Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Intelligent Harry, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Marriage Contracts, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Not So Evil Voldemort (Harry Potter), On the Run, Powerful Harry, Runaway Harry, Runaway Harry Potter, aerialist dancer, aerialist harry, betrothals, silk dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimuii/pseuds/kimuii
Summary: He'd always planned on getting away, running away at some point. Now that he has, he was going to live.Harrison survived the harsh London streets, found his passion, and made a life for himself. He's living freely, and for himself and himself alone.But when he's finally found by Dumbledore and the Order, will he be manipulated back into the Wizarding World, and its 2nd war? Who will he side with? Or will he make his own side?
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, piers - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The picture I used for the scar description: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/844493665881379/
> 
> This is not his overall appearance!

It was the dead of night in Surry, and the residents of #4 Private Drive were quiet, its inhabitants all sleeping besides one. Underneath the cupboard door below the stairs lit up and repeatedly descended into darkness with a dull flickering light.

Inside the small space was a little boy lying on his back. He had round glasses taped together at the middle and a mop of messy black hair that hung over into his eyes. Those jade eyes stared at the flame that erupted from the small lighter in his hand, the fire jumping and flickering while filling the space with a dull orange glow.

It provided a little heat to his thumb that was right next to the flame, but it gave that tiny bit of comfort better than the old thin throw blanket he had thrown over his body. 

The boy, Harrison, was the only one in the house who had to deal with the November night's coldness. It would only get colder with the approaching December and January. His relatives were snug and warm in their beds and little space heaters to comfort them, leaving him to fend for himself.

Harrison's relatives, the Dursleys, were not the normal family that they portrayed to themselves to the people on the outside. They were not the kind, loving family that took in their orphaned nephew out of the goodness of their hearts and who had to, unfortunately, deal with that orphan's misconduct.

No. Far from it. Ever since his Aunt Petunia had found him on their doorstep one October morning with only a small note of explanation, his life had been a living hell. He was only a burden on their 'perfect' lives: a problem child, a delinquent.

But he should be grateful, though, right? That's what his Aunt and Uncle would always say. They took him in, fed him (barely), clothed him (did Dudley's old oversized hand-me-downs count?), even sheltered him (That's funny, he thought, looking around the cupboard he was in). 

He should be grateful that they threatened to abandon him at some random orphanage. Thankful that they hadn't just left him to die in some alley when they'd initially found him.

Perhaps he would have been better off at an orphanage. 

Harrison shook his head, putting the lighter down beside the broken toy soldiers sitting on the little shelf. Toys that Dudley had abandoned years ago.

No, nothing would change. Whether he was here or at an orphanage. He'd be under the authorities of adults that wouldn't and didn't give any kind of fuck about him. No adult could genuinely be trusted unconditionally, he learned. 

Not the neighbors who just accepted anything his relatives told them. And not the teachers who ignored the obvious signs of abuse or even straight up not believe him whenever he tried to voice his problems. The police were out of the question.

They didn't care, and he doubted they ever would. Maybe he was better off dead when he'd been found. At least he wouldn't be aware enough to even notice he was dying. 

Harrison would be lying if he said he'd never thought of taking his own life. At least he'd be going by his own terms, and with what dignity he'd manage to still have—dark thoughts for a 9-year-old. But, perhaps thankfully, he had never been able to go beyond the ideas appearing in his head. Maybe it was pride or stubbornness. Or perhaps it was some small will to live deep down that spurred his desire to prove these people wrong. To see freedom, a life away from here that he'd always dreamed about.

And tonight may be the start of everything. Harrison had his game plan, had a solid one for at least a year now. All he needed was the right timing and the right mindset to actually pull through it.

Because part of him didn't want to leave the familiarity of this life. Unlike being on the streets, Harrison knew who the threat was and the routine. But no, he needed to go. He was sneaky enough to get out without any trouble and unnoticed.

Living on the streets would be hard; it was hard for anyone but even more difficult for a child. But Harrison believed he had a good chance. And he knew he'd never see that chance if he didn't leave eventually. The violence was escalating as of late, he thought bitterly, poking softly at his side and letting loose a hiss of pain. He didn't think his ribs were broken; he doubted he'd be able to even get up if that were the case. They were possibly just bruised. It wouldn't be the first time.

Uncle Vernon was a large fat man, like a walrus, and he favored getting physical with his nephew. They were getting worse as the days went by, especially ever since the 'freaky' stuff started happening around him.

One time, Harrison appeared on top of his school building when he was hiding from Dudley and his gang one afternoon. There was no way he'd have been able to get up there from where he'd been crouched behind a dumpster. But it was like he'd teleported.

A teacher caught him, and his Aunt was called up to the school by the principal. Harrison had been sent to his cupboard for 3 days without meals and a beating with his Uncle's favorite leather belt when he'd returned from work.

His hair, which was always messy and uncontrollable, had been getting too long for Aunt Petunia's taste one day. It made no sense to Harrison as his hair always seemed to be easily manageable when it was longer.

But "boys were not supposed to have long hair. Long hair was for girls' Aunt Petunia had spat at him when he'd dared to question her. She shaved his head with clippers, not caring if she nicked his ears of skin. She left his bangs so that it would still cover his forehead and the scar that was there.

The hair had grown back overnight, even longer than before. The beating he'd received that night had rendered him unconscious for several hours.

The scar was like a lightning bolt, jagged lines going in multiple directions across the entirety of his forehead, down his temples and the bridge of his nose, and under his eyes. His relatives had told him that he'd gotten it from the car crash his parents had died in—something about a piece of glass cutting into his face.

It was clearly a lie. There was no way the glass had caused that. Harrison liked to think he'd been struck by bright green lightning.

Harrison grunted firmly suddenly, grabbing the lighter again and shoving it into the oversized pants he wore. Another thing he'd been given that used to belong to Dudley. Freaks didn't deserve new clothing after all. They were held up by the old belt to keep them on his skinny hips. 

Harrison pushed the cupboard door open quickly, remembering that the hinges squeak rather loudly when moved. It was better to open it all at once and get the noise over with rather than slowly open it.

He listened for footsteps or anything moving upstairs. His Aunt and Uncle sometimes slept with their bedroom door open. But the night stayed still and silent besides the occasional thunderous snore coming from the mouth of his walrus uncle. 

He slipped out and then leaned back in to grab the backpack he'd taken from the lost and found at school. The one he had before (another forgotten relic of Dudley) had been destroyed weeks ago during an afternoon of "Harry Hunting." He didn't dare complain about it out of fear of being punished for even thinking of accusing such an act on "Precious Diddykins!"

He grabbed his large flannel and pulled it on. He decided to bring the other hand-me-down clothes. The more layers he had at his disposal, the better, and they were better than nothing. Harrison shoved his throw blanket to the bottom of the bag and put the clothes on top after quickly folding them. 

He went into the kitchen, every visible surface cleaned and smelling of product from that night's dinner. He hadn't gotten so much as a crumb despite it being him who did all the cleaning and most of the cooking.

Harrison always wondered why he'd never died from starvation or lack of consistent nutrients. His freakiness, he concluded.

In the pantry, he filled his bag with some cans of soup and other food that wouldn't expire too quickly. He would have packed his bag in advance to this, but no doubt his relatives would notice things missing. Anytime anything went lost in the house, it ultimately got blamed on him anyway. Still, he didn't want to add more attention to himself.

But now, he didn't care. He'd be long gone by the time they noticed. He grabbed a flashlight and pocketknife from the draw by the kitchen sink, shoving them into the side pockets of the bag. He listened out again for anything before going back into the front hall. His Uncle always left his wallet and car keys in the table's dish by the front door. Harrison took all the paper money from the wallet and a few gift cards to stores in London. There could still be money on them.

He left the credit and debit cards. He knew that they could be tracked somehow; They left a trail. Besides, unlike the gift cards, credit and debit cards could be frozen and shut down when Uncle Vernon noticed they were missing. Harrison could remember a similar situation to his Uncle before, where he'd had his card stolen. He went on ranting and raving for days about it, having to close the card and order a new one.

That anger was taken out on the poor five-year-old Harrison at the time, of course.

There was a potted plant by the door where Harrison got to his knees and began digging in the soil for a prescription bottle that he knew was there. Inside the bottle was a rolled-up wad of cash with a rubber band wrapped around it. He smiled brightly at his so-far success, shoving the bottle and the items from the wallet into the bag's smaller pouch. He'd count all he had later on when he settled somewhere.

Harrison debated whether to go upstairs for more stuff but decided against it in the end. He'd been lucky thus far that night, and he didn't want to push it beyond its limits. Harrison was resilient for his young age; he'd make do with what he had, which was more than he had first thought he'd find.

Ready to finally leave, Harrison slipped out of the front door, shutting it behind him. He didn't worry much about being seen considering the hour, but he still made sure to keep away from street lamps. He glanced behind him at the house he'd been forced to survive in day to day for 9 years, then the other homes around them, the street. His eyes landed on the house further down the road.

Whenever the Dursley's were out and didn't want to bring Harrison along (which was the majority of the time), he would be sent over to Ms. Figg, a kind, old, widowed woman who lived with her many cats. She always fed him whenever he would come by and treated him nice, which made him an exception to Harrison's views on most adults.

She'd let him watch cartoons on her television, something he wasn't allowed at the Dursleys. Ms. Figg didn't force him to do chores, though it was something that the Dursleys encouraged her to do. Thankfully, she never listened. But Harrison willingly cleaned up after himself and her when he was there, doing the dishes and helping her with things she couldn't do at her elderly age. It was a little way he could give back to the woman who had done good things for him.

He would certainly miss her. He reached into his bag and went towards the house. He'd grabbed a small notebook and pen from the Dursleys' during his little raid. He figured it would give him something to do, draw or write maybe. He wrote on the paper; a simple message, a thank you really, and a vague goodbye. He gave no explanations; it was unneeded.

Thank you for everything you've done for me. I wish you all the best. ~Harrison P.

Harrison smiled softly as he signed his name and put the paper into the mailbox at the end of the driveway. Taking a breath, Harrison looked around again, his hot breath forming a mist in front of his face. Maybe he'd come back and visit Ms. Figg later in life. He could do this. He could survive and find a better life somewhere. He'd live to see the day he'd appear back to see the familiar elderly face and her cats. He'd live for himself.

And that night, the Dursley household became the trio it once was before. His absence was barely noticed, and when it was, it was said they'd shipped him off to some military school for delinquents. No police were called, no one searched. Why would he? After all, what reason would the Dursleys have for lying? It was only a matter of time before the Dursleys finally decided enough with the stain on the family.

But no one realized what had been a result of the boy leaving. The Blood Wards collapsing, if there really had been still intact. This wouldn't be realized until a couple of years later. And by then, Harrison Potter had been long gone and long-missing.


	2. Chapter 2

The streets of Westminister were rowdy today. There were a lot more people milling about on the roads than usual, talking and laughing excitedly. Children were pulling on their parents' arms impatiently with talk of a circus in the town center. This caught little soon to be 11 years old Harrison Potter's attention. 

He had never been to an event like that before, mainly due to the money you had to pay to get in, and he was curious.

He could see in the distance bright lights and some structures he couldn't identify from where he stood. It was slowly moving into the evening, around 5 or so. The sky above was already a dusty mix of pinks and oranges.

Harrison loved the summer months, mainly because he didn't have to layer up and struggle to find decent shelter. It made the places he stayed a bit more bearable when it came to temperature. Plus, it brought tourists to the towns and cities he wandered through.

He'd been looking for a place to crash for the night, but he couldn't pass up this opportunity. He needed to stock up on funds for the fall and winter, and he liked to plan ahead. Large crowds of people barely paying attention to their surroundings were his favorite times. Plus, he might get some food other than the cans of soup and granola bars he was used to consuming daily.

He'd spent a lot of money on medication and first aid supplies this past spring, so that caused his funds to take a significant blow. During the winter months, Harrison would find a good place to settle and stay there for as long as possible. The areas he'd been got a lot of snow, and he didn't want to attempt to travel in it. He could easily end up stranded somewhere.

Harrison had gotten injured when pickpocketing some local high school boys that didn't appreciate being stolen from. They were on the wealthier side, at least their parents were, if their high-end private school uniforms said anything. It wasn't like they'd miss the money too badly.

He'd gotten away thankfully, but not before getting several bruising from the beating and a couple of cracked ribs because of the kick he'd received to the side and stomach.

That's what Harrison thought opened him up to the sickness that came after. His body was too busy and overwhelmed trying to heal his injuries. The shelter he eventually did find gave no shield from the coldness and the snow. He only left his shelter if he absolutely had to, like food and the medication he could get without a prescription. The sickness had lasted a little over two weeks, and Harrison was lucky he'd survived.

The best place he'd stayed in, in Harrison's opinion, was back in May. He'd found solace in a local town library. It was a fairly big building for the area. The only real security was the cameras facing the front entrance and the padlock that locked the front doors after hours. There was no other surveillance from what Harrison had noticed. There was one librarian and then a janitor that cleaned up after closing.

The library closed around 6 every night, and the janitor stayed cleaning up until at least 8. It opened back up around 10 in the morning, and Sundays, the library stayed closed. Harrison had gone into the building itself once during morning hours, but not again. Unfortunately, Harrison was losing his innocent looks.

Sharper features were coming in as he got older, nothing too major, but quicker than they really should have. Harrison chalked it up to stress and the life he was living. And he apparently came off as untrustworthy and up to no good to some people, which had undoubtedly been the case with the librarian.

She'd kept a close eye on him during his stay in the library. She probably thought she was sneaky, but Harrison had noticed her actions almost immediately. She didn't speak to him or anything, and Harrison grew annoyed with her constant gaze.

Thankfully, the librarian still had other duties to attend to rather than watching some kid all day. It gave Harrison the chance to unlock one of the windows in one of the small study rooms and another in the common area.

He hoped that the unlocked windows would go unnoticed. He unlocked two on the chance that they found one unlocked. It would most likely be the window in the study room; no one would really expect someone to use the open common area. Too risky.

He left once in the late afternoon, spending his time browsing the selection of books they had there. Harrison liked the horror genre and enjoyed reading on occasion. He might not have much schooling beyond the fourth grade, but Harrison was not stupid. He was just more street smart than book smart.

He went around viewing the town until he could come back to the library once the janitor left. It was a big enough place where people wouldn't take much notice of a new face. Perfect, he didn't have to relocate for a little bit.

Like he'd thought the window to the study room was locked when he came back. The common area was still unlocked, though, which Harrison was thankful for.

So he used the library for almost an entire month. He made sure not to leave any messes or anything out of place, so he could extend his stay.

Harrison was proud of himself for managing to make it this far. Almost two years under his belt, and he was a bit more confident in himself because of it.

Harrison made his way through the crowds of people as he headed closer to the center of town, a large circular area. Events such as circuses and fairs had most people carrying around loose cash money, so it was easy for Harrison to grab and go pretty much unnoticed with the cover of the crowds.

He passed many food vendors, games, and some performers walking around entertaining. The circle was utterly filled with a huge tent, which Harrison assumed held most of the entertainment and performances. Smells of greasy fair food filled the air around him, and the music, which was mostly coming from the large tent, was loud and captivating.

After wandering around the outside, snagging a corndog when no one was looking, Harrison ducked into the main tent. A circular stage was in the middle, benches surrounding the edges for the audience. It was pretty filled inside, and Harrison found a seat at the very edge of the bottom bench, near the entrance.

On the middle stage were three performers; two men holding onto poles, sitting halfway up the dark metal, one on the left, the other on the right. In the middle was a dark-skinned woman hanging above the ground with silks wrapped around her feet, waist, and around an inner elbow.

All the performers he'd seen were good, but this woman especially caught Harrison's eye. She wore a leotard of red lace, opened at the middle of her chest and mainly at her side. Her hair was pulled back into two afro puffs, matching red strings wrapped around them and braided through the base.

She moved with purpose and ease, graceful as ever as she spun, climbed, and dropped her weight in the air, the music complimenting her movements perfectly. She smiled, beamed, as she went upside down. Her grip on the silk and the silk wrapped around her waist was the only thing keeping her up. Her leg raised upwards, her free hand reaching down to her other foot, wrapping her fingers around the sole.

The woman then spun again and shifted into a split position. Harrison had never seen someone look so carefree, so happy. It was a beautiful sight. She looked as if the world was a wonderful place and sight to behold, and that she was lucky to be here to witness it, to perform for the people or whoever may be watching.

It was feeling and look Harrison was still unfamiliar with and always on the look for. Sure, he was happier in a sense since leaving the Dursley household; he most definitely felt more at ease now that he had a bit of a routine and system.

He thought it would get easier as he grew up. At least once he was around 16, he could get a proper job, depending on where it was. He didn't know the age requirements, really. But no one in their right mind would hire an 11-year-old off the street. Some places didn't require primary education or a diploma or too much information tied to his identities beyond his name and age, like a birth certificate or a driver's license. Harrison hoped so, at least.

Maybe he could be a garbage boy or something.

Harrison had come across other runaways, or homeless, kids like himself during his travels. He was aware of the most common way of making money amongst them. Selling yourself. Harrison could understand why; what else could they possibly do to survive?

It was a route Harrison could have quickly taken, still could. But he felt it was putting himself in more danger than he already was in with living on the streets. You never honestly know what your "clients'" true intentions were. But again, Harrison was no one to judge. They were all trying to survive out here, and how others chose to do it was their business. A lot of the time, they had no other choice.

It would be the very last thing Harrison would try, no matter how hard things got for him. That didn't mean he'd never been propositioned before, though. He'd escaped some pretty close calls in the past, with some older men taking a liking to him. Even a few women had approached him, though they were very far in between and a lot more subtle in their advances. Still criminal and gross, considering he was very obviously a child.

A lot of the kids and teens he'd met had settled into that where they were in life. They'd settled into that survival mindset that was sadly needed if you wanted to make it. But they end up staying there even when they were older, which was the sad part, Harrison thought. Again, he could understand. It was a sense of familiarity for most, and the doubt that they could go on to do more. There was no guarantee, so why risk it?

Harrison didn't want that for himself. That wasn't the freedom he had always dreamt about. Perhaps his naive brain was talking, but he still believed there was more out there, even for kids like him.

Harrison watched the woman perform into the late night, eating the last of his corndog. He stayed where he sat even when she left the stage to take breaks, and other performers took her place. They were all excellent at what they did, but none were as captivating and attention-grabbing as that woman.

She always went somewhere in the back of the tent. A dressing area, perhaps? He'd stayed longer than he intended, meaning to only satisfy his curiosity, get some food, and some money. But he hadn't been able to pull himself away.

The only people still there were some of the audience still lagging behind and workers cleaning up. No one noticed him. Perfect.

He ducked down behind the wooden bleachers and out of sight. He wanted to find the woman. Determined now, he went towards the back where he knew she had disappeared to. Two workers entered the tent through the back flaps as he approached, and he slipped past.

He was back outside, in a fenced-off area lined with more but smaller tents. He guessed this was where the people slept and ate. Harrison looked around, searching for the woman. He doubted he'd even work up the courage to talk to her. He was never the most sociable person, especially with those significantly older than him. He had the Dursleys to thank for that.

He passed many of the other performers as he searched. It was so fascinating. He'd only seen circuses like this on television and in books.

Clowns were removing their makeup and dressing in their usual everyday wear, their colorful wigs discarded. They all seemed to be heading somewhere further off—food, based on the smell. In the distance, Harrison could hear and smell the animals. Jugglers, musicians, unicyclists, you name it! The people interacted with each other like they were all one big, happy family. It was a refreshing sight to witness.

"Hey, kid!"

A yell sounded somewhere behind him, and Harrison didn't bother to turn and see who it was. He just bolted instinctively, pushing through people and shouting apologies over his shoulder as he went.

Someone must have seen him go back there as he didn't look out of place enough to call out with his short-sleeved white shirt and thin black sweatpants. He wasn't sticking out like a sour thumb or anything. He could have been someone's kid, for all they knew!

Harrison could still hear the person yelling after him, getting closer. "Someone stop that kid!"

Shit, they were dragging others into it. This only gave him more people to avoid if the people around listened to them. He turned a corner between two tents, finally glancing over his shoulder. Then he was falling back, something solid stopping his run. He landed on his back, groaning. He must have landed on one of the metal soup cans in his bag.

Clearly, he'd run into someone, but he didn't look to see who it was as whoever was chasing him around the corner too. Harrison got to his feet and quickly moved around the person he'd run into between him and the person chasing him. He was cornered, he knew.

"Oi, kid! You can't be back here. Come on, and get your ass out!" It was a man, around the age of 40 at least. Harrison was impressed that he'd been able to keep up with him as he did.

"Cursing at a child, shame on you." It was the woman in front of him who spoke. The woman from the show he'd been looking for. She was dressed in a long flowy skirt and tank top, her face and hair free from the makeup and glitter that was there for the show. But it took nothing away from her beauty.

She stood with her hands on her hips, her posture matching her scolding motherly tone. Harrison stayed back and quiet. Seems like the woman was on his side, for now.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. This little delinquent snuck in. I'll just get him out of your hair and make sure he hasn't stolen any-"

"Are you calling my son a thief?" The woman demanded, eyebrow quirking up. The man, and Harrison, blinked at her. The man looked from the woman to Harrison, peeking from his place behind her and back.

Harrison almost snorted out loud at the look on his face. He and the woman looked nowhere near alike, even with Harrison's olive skin tone. Her eyes were narrow and a deep mocha brown, where his eyes were almond-shaped and jade green. Her hair, which was simply in an afro around her head, looking freshly washed, was a coily texture up close. Harrison's was straighter, a bit past his shoulders now.

"Your...son?" The man asked skeptically, eyes narrowed.

"Did I stutter?" She remarked.

"With all due respect, I-"

"Do I need to have a meeting with Mr. Cambell about your continued harassment towards a child and also a performer here?" She quirked an eyebrow.

The man visibly bristled at the mention of this Mr. Cambell character. "No need," he said quickly. "I was only concerned. I-I'll just leave you to it then..."

And then he was gone, but not before sending Harrison another nasty glare. An amused chuckle came from the woman, Harrison feeling it rumbled through her body. He quickly removed his hand from where it was resting on her upper thigh and hip. He hadn't realized he'd been clutching her.

The woman noticed the movement, and she turned to him, crouching down to match his height. Her eyes were kind, but that didn't stop Harrison from taking an instinctual step back and look away. Looking someone in the eye, especially an adult, was disrespectful. That's what his relatives had beaten into him.

Harrison knew that anything coming from his relatives were more than likely false, but old habits died hard.

But the woman was having none of it. Ringed covered fingers went under his chin, and the responding flinch was ignored as she raised his head and their eyes met.

"Hello dear, what's your name? And why are you back here?"

Harrison kept silent, his fingers twitching at his side, wanting to smack her hand away. But he didn't.

"You're the boy that was at the show, right? Sat by the entrance and stayed the whole time. Are your parents here?" She tried again. Her face and demeanor showed no impatience.

Harrison spoke then. "My parents are dead."

"Your guardians then?"

Harrison shook his head.

"A runaway," she said. She smiled sadly at the look she received. "You'd be surprised how many people here were or are runaways."

She stood then. and held out a hand. "My name is Olivia. Come now, you look like you could do with a hot meal. And perhaps a bath if you'd like."

Harrison hesitated before slipping his hand into hers, the metal of her rings cold against his skin. She smiled gently and led him from where they stood and towards what Harrison assumed to be her tent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harrison looks like Booboo Stewart but with jade green eyes: http://www.teenidols4you.com/picture.html?g=Actors&pe=boo_boo_stewart&foto=554&act=843&mv=4&pic=654022
> 
> Simon, who is an original character, looks much like Cameron Boyce but with blue hazel eyes: https://www.fanpop.com/clubs/jessie/images/32489554/title/cameron-boyce-photo

"How long ago did you run away, Harrison?" Olivia asked as they sat around a crowded fire with the other circus members. It was dinner time, and they were serving hotdogs, bread, and some kind of meat soup. A bowl of soup was handed to him by a remarkably tall man--at least 7 feet tall!

He managed a small smile at the man, taking the bowl and a slice of bread.

"I was nine," Harrison responded to her, taking a bite and looking around, enjoying the little comfort he got from his surroundings. It was a lot of loud talking, but more in a background noise kind of way.

Olivia had taken him to get bathed as she'd said and had given him clean clothes that had belonged to some other child who could no longer fit them. It felt nice to be totally clean for once. His hair was longer than he had initially thought when it was all matted together. He'd allowed Olivia to pull a comb through his hair and pull his dark locks into a bun at the back of his head.

He quite liked the look on him.

Olivia hummed next to him, taking the food that was held out to her. "So young. Is it bad to say that I've met younger?" She shook her head. "How old are you now?"

"Almost eleven."

"Almost two years then," she said. "You're a pretty tough cookie then." She nudged his shoulder with her elbow with a chuckle.

"I've been with this circus since I was seventeen, coming and going occasionally. I always have a place here."

Harrison glanced up from his bowl. It was half empty now. He hoped he hadn't been too messy while eating--he still had some manners!

"Were you a runaway too?" He asked, feeling full and placing the bowl down in the empty spot next to him. He nibbled on the last bit of bread.

"Not necessarily," she said thoughtfully. "More like...kicked out? It was a very confusing situation with my family, to say the least. Too many differences. I'm not completely sure what had set it off, but at least I was sort of better off when it happened."

Olivia shrugged then. "But I'm lucky. I ended up finding my family here."

She smiled softly, looking around at the people around her. They fell into silence for a bit after that. A few people came up to speak with Olivia occasionally, some talking to Harrison as well. He was vaguely aware of him shrinking closer to Olivia when it happened, but he still responded to be polite. These people were allowing him to stay right now, after all.

The last thing he needed to do was be rude. Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

"Where did you learn to do your dancing stuff?" Harrison asked once they were by themselves again. "The in the air rope thingy."

That made Olivia laughed hard at that, startling him a bit from the sort of cackle erupting from her. It was unpleasant, just unexpected. It certainly wasn't the type of laugh you'd think the woman would have when looking at her. It suited her, though.

Her laughter died down. "You mean my silks?" She asked, giggling again here and there. "I've never heard it described like that."

"'In the air rope thingys,'" she repeated, chuckling. "That's great. I'm an aerialist. I learned when I was maybe fifteen. An old school friend of mine was really into gymnastics, and she invited me to one of her practices. They had acrobatic and aerialist classes there, and I took an interest."

"You were beautiful," Harrison blurted out. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he went to apologize but was stopped by the small smile on Olivia's face.

"Why, thank you," she said warmly. "I love when people enjoy what I do."

"I've never seen anything like that before," he admitted.

Olivia smiled, her laugh lines appearing strongly, and she stood suddenly, her long skirt moving like water around her. He wondered what it was made of.

"Follow me," she said, holding out her hand to him. 

He took it, and he followed her back to the big showroom tent. The area near the back entrance was pretty much empty, only a few people sitting around, as it had been a bit since the end of the show. Olivia ducked inside, and Harrison went in after her. It was dim without the stage lights, and it was quiet.

"Um...are we allowed to be in here after hours?" Harrison questioned, then cringed internally. She worked here! Of course, she could be in here!

But Olivia didn't speak on that clearly unnecessary question, wondering over and flicking on one of the spotlights near the center.

"I come in here to practice or just to think when shows are over." The other three lights flickered on. "This was always more than just a job to me."

Harrison nodded in acknowledgment, walking towards the middle of the circle, looking around. The rafters were far above them, dark with the ceiling. He hadn't noticed Olivia climbing up there until two silk fabrics were suddenly falling towards him. Harrison yelped, batting the material away and out of his face. Olivia's giggles rang from above, followed by a quick "Sorry!"

He let out his own short laugh, running his hands along with the fabric, the smoothness cool against his fingers. Another item dropped down off to the side. A big metal hoop with a thick black rope tied to one end at the top. He dropped the silks and walked over to the ring. The metal was cold to the touch and a shiny gray. He grabbed the hoop, and with a flick of his wrist, sent it into a spin.

Stopping it with his hand, he turned, and with a little hop because of his height, Harrison sat in the hoop, holding onto the sides. His feet were off the ground, so he shifted the weight in his hips to try to make himself spin but wasn't very successful in speed. He grunted in slight frustration.

A hand grabbed onto the hoop, stopping his movements. Olivia's warm smile greeted him from where she stood in front of him. She grasped his hands and moved them upwards along the hoop sides until they were slightly above his head.

"There," she said, letting go and taking a step back out of the way. "Now, try shifting your weight in your arms and torso instead."

Harrison nodded and followed her instructions, grinning brightly as he spun faster.

"There you go!" Olivia clapped. She stopped him again before taking another step back. Harrison took notice of the small black remote in her hand.

"What's that?" He asked, swinging his legs back and forth.

"This is used to operate the pulley system from down here. It's so that we don't have to keep climbing into the rafters to adjust things when no-one is up there." She tossed the remote from hand to hand before stopping.

"I'm wanna try something," she announced. "Trust me?"

Harrison's eyebrows furrowed, but he still nodded. She hadn't harmed him so far, and he was sure he could handle himself if he needs to. Olivia raised the remote towards the ceiling and pressed a button. The hoop jerked under him, and suddenly he was moving upwards further above the ground. He tightened his grip and instinctively tucked his legs up so the bottom of the hoop was snug between his thighs and his lower calves. The hoop stopped, and Harrison looked down at Olivia. He was a few feet off the ground from where he'd been initially.

"I hope the height doesn't bother you," she said.

Harrison shook his head. "Not really." His grip slackened up a bit.

"Go upside down for me," Oliva said. Harrison raised an eyebrow, which she chuckled at. "Trust me. Just put your hands next to your thighs and let yourself fall backward."

She moved underneath where he was hanging. "I won't let you get hurt. Think of it as a trust fall."

Harrison slowly moved his hands next to his thighs, careful not to make too much of a jerking movement. He took a slow breath, shutting his eyes, and let himself fall back. Air rushed rapidly past his ears, and he rocked back and forth a few times due to the momentum. His eyes parted, and he looked down again. Olivia was grinning at him, and he smiled back.

Then he groaned quietly as the blood rushed to his head. Harrison tried pulling himself back up but was unsuccessful. Huffing, he politely asked Olivia to move aside before whipping his legs forward off the hoop. He'd intended to move to hang from his hands, but he hadn't realized how he'd been gripping the metal. His body launched forward, and that sends his arm into a rather uncomfortable position, the muscles of his shoulder pulling sharply, causing him to let go in response. The next thing he knew, the ground was rushing towards him.

Olivia yelled out, flying forward to try and catch him, but that only brought herself down with him, both of their bodies hitting the ground in a heap, Harrison's legs draped over her stomach. The two groaned, and Harrison sat up, rubbing the spot on his head that had knocked against the ground. He began apologizing, scrambling off the older woman. She gave a mix of a laugh and a groan in response, raising her hand to wave it at him dismissively.

"Oh, cut that out," she said, sitting up herself. Dusting off her skirt, she helped Harrison to his feet, turning him around to take a look at his head. "Those kinds of things happen, especially for someone who isn't trained for it."

He felt her moving his hair, checking his scalp. "Doesn't look too bad, just a little knot. Are you okay? Any dizziness, headache? You're talking okay, it seems."

"I'm alright," he reassured her. "I don't have a concussion; I know what that feels like."

Olivia grunted behind him but said no more. Harrison glanced back up at the hoop, rubbing the knot on his head. It was still swaying a bit up there. It had been such a rush, and he wasn't just talking about the fall. He hadn't done much, just hung there, but just being above the ground like that, upside down and spinning, it had sent a sort of thrill through his veins.

"How long will you be staying here?" He asked Olivia.

The woman shrugged. "Depends on how long we can make money here. It could be a month or only a few days. But based on how tonight's turnout was, I'd guess a few weeks at the most."

The young boy chewed on his bottom lip, reaching out and touching the silks and then clutching them tightly in his hands. He looked at Olivia, then the silks again.

"Could you maybe teach me?" He finally asked, very timidly. The silence lasted only a split second before Harrison was already rambling. "You don't have to, of course. I just think that--what did you call it? Aerialist? Yeah--I think it's lovely, and I'd love to learn from you--"

"Hey, hey! Slow down!" Hands fell onto his shoulders, causing him to flinch, raising his hands up defensively before snapping them back to his sides. Olivia again didn't say anything about it, which Harrison was thankful for.

"I would love to show you the ropes," she said.

Harrison's face lit up, and he couldn't stop himself from throwing his arms around Olivia's middle, squeezing tightly to try and express all he was feeling into that hug. He thought she got the message, as he felt and heard her chuckle, and she bent down a bit to wrap her arms around him.

\---------------

Within the next two or so weeks, Harrison became known as Olivia's shadow amongst the circus members. At first, he was rarely seen without her when she wasn't working. That led to the nickname 'shadow'. Harrison didn't mind, though. 

He, of course, made himself of use when Olivia was busy. He joined the other kids to do chores, like laundry, and show set-ups if they were old enough.

He was accepted quickly amongst the other members without much question, and it warmed his heart significantly. People weren't all bad.

Harrison made friends with a young brother and sister. Valerie, who was thirteen, and Simon, who was eleven. They stayed with their aunt, one of the anime handlers, and they were homeschooled by her as they traveled. Their aunt dealt with the large felines, and Harrison was often teased about him avidly avoiding the big cats, though he knew it was all light-hearted. Excuse him for valuing his life. Have they seen the size of a full-grown tiger's teeth? No, thank you!

"Come on, Shadow!" Valerie said, hanging off Harrison's arm. They were sitting together around the lunch fire. Simon was off somewhere else, not telling either of them where he was going. Valerie just shrugged and brushed the matter aside, while Harrison felt worried after a while. He felt like he was being avoided... was he a little self-centered?

"I'm serious, Val," Harrison sighed, spinning the bare corndog stick between his fingers. His hands were really calloused, he noticed. "I'm really not comfortable with being that close to an animal that could literally rip my head off."

Valerie crossed her arms over her chest. "Yet you have no problems handling any of the snakes here, most of which are poisonous."

"They remove the venom, you know," Harrison said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I kind of grew up around snakes a lot, and not all of them are poisonous."

The little garden snakes that would frequent the grasses of Surrey had actually been rather friendly. He could remember how many times he had protected the scaley beings from Dudley and his cruel ways. It wouldn't surprise Harrison if his cousin grew up to be some psychopath with how he treated defenseless animals.

"Uh-huh, sure," she said, shaking her head in exasperation at her dark-haired friend. "Don't see how you can truly like those slimy creatures."

"This coming from miss tiger girl?" Harrison questioned as he watched the older girl shudder dramatically. He chuckled. "Snakes are misunderstood."

"Tigers are misunderstood then," Valerie shot back. She fell across Harrison's lap, staring up at him. "Please? No one will let him hurt you. Rajah is very well trained."

She reached up and tugged lightly on a loose strand of hair over his forehead, giving Harrison a pouty look, her hazel eyes expressing a mocking plea. He pulled a strand of her brown hair in return and sighed. "How about this. If I go see Rajah, then you have to come to see the snakes."

"You have to pet him."

"If I have to pet Rajah, you have to pet a snake."

Valerie visibly cringed, and Harrison laughed, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

"Fine," she finally mumbled, rolling off Harrison's lap in defeat. "We do the tiger first, though," she demanded.

"Deal!" He said, leaping to his feet and pulling Valerie up from the ground. "Let's get this over with then."

Valerie rolled her eyes but kept her hand in Harrison's, pulling him off towards the animal area. They ran into Simon along the way, him heading in the opposite direction as them.

"Simon!" Harrison called after him. "Want to come with us to see the animals?"

Simon slowly approached them, and Harrison felt Valerie tighten her grip on his hand, then entwining their fingers together. He glanced over at her in question, but her gaze was on her brother with a worrying smirk on her face. Harrison opened his mouth to say something, but Simon was already in front of them.

Simon was an inch or two taller than Harrison (curse being malnourished!) with hair the same shade of brown as his sister's and hazel eyes that were slightly bluer. Freckles covered his face, mostly across the bridge of his nose, cheeks, and forehead. Simon was staring blatantly at Harrison, and Valerie's entwined hands with a strange look on his face.

"Simon, are you okay?" Valerie asked, with a kind of fake sweet tone, the smirk never leaving her face. His eyes snapped up to hers, and they narrowed frostily.

"You play too damn much," he snapped at her, brushing past the duo. He stopped for a moment. "Olivia wants to talk to you after her meeting, Shadow," he called over his shoulder without looking back.

Harrison stared after him, a startled and confused expression clear on his face, taken aback by Simon's cold behavior. "What's his deal?"

Valerie stared at him and gave a disbelieving scoff. "You cannot be that dense."

"What do you mean?" Harrison asked.

She let go of his hand and placed them on her hips, cocking her head to the side. "Harrison, he didn't start acting weird until a week or so ago. And when did we meet?"

Harrison blinked at her, actually using his name. She rarely did, opting to use the nickname he'd been given. "Almost two weeks...what does that have to do with anything? Did I do something to offend Simon..?"

Valerie groaned. "Ugh! Boys, I swear, ya'll are the worst at noticing things!" She shook her head, retaking Harrison's hand. "We'll worry about it later. Come on."


End file.
